Two faces
by KL inc
Summary: There are two faces a person has. The first is your true identity, the second a mask you show to the world. Each of the Zboys is hiding something. Help needed: see info. READ & REVIEW please.
1. info help wanted

If you've read any of my other fics then you know that my first chapter is never a chapter, but rather a disclaimer discribing the story. If you didn't know that, sorry. 

**TITLE:** Two Faces

**SUMMERY:** There are two faces a person has. The first is your true identity, the second a mask you show to the world. Each of the Z-boys is hiding something.

**RATING:** T for angst and of course some good ole foul langauge

**GENRE:** Drama, romance & some angst too

**DISCLAIMER:** Of course I do not own any characters or events mentioned in the movie,  
If I did this would all be a wonderfully crappy sequal / prequal thing entitled "Revenge of the Dudes" or something. I do own everything else you do not recongnize though and I have a hot-shot attorney.

Also I DON'T SKATE & I would appreciate it very much if someone with experience and a little knowledge about the beginnings of the style the Z-Boys adopted could help me out and explain some of the tricks for me. I will certainly be more than happy to give you credit. Just post message me and we can work something out, thanks a lot.

I hope you like the idea, comment & review if you like.

Thanks very much -K (L.inc)-


	2. chapter 1

**(A/N: As stated in the movie: some real events have been fictionalized for entertainment purposes. This fic is based solely on the movie- with the exception of the historical/ cultural events occurring during the given time period. None of the characters you may recognize are owned by me and I am in no way affiliated with the actual persons mentioned—thank you)**

**(A/N: Feedback would be greatly appreciated)**

**Chapter One (Jay)**

Late afternoon was quite possibly Jay Adams' favorite time of day. There was still plenty of daylight left and ample time before businesses closed up for the day and people rushed home for their dinners. For now, Venice was deserted and Jay could skate in peace and solitude.

_ This was just what the doctor ordered_ Jay thought as he picked up speed. It had been one of those days where nothing had gone right. He'd missed his ride into school and as usual had forgotten an assignment was due in class. He'd also nearly gotten himself thrown out of Mr. Percy's study hall and there was no food in the fridge when he arrived home. Jay decided he needed a break from everything, so he grabbed his board, with the intention of riding until it was time to meet up with Stacy, Tony and Sid.

Jay continued to weave through the narrow streets of town. He passed the liquor store where on more than one occasion the boys attempted to buy beer, and of course the Zephyr skate shop owned by Skip, the town's resident drunk. Most of the adults thought of skip as irresponsible and feeble-minded but the kids thought skip was okay. If anything, Skip was just unhappy, a little grumpy perhaps. As far as Jay and many of Zephyr's patrons thought, Skip's passion for surfing and skating more than made up for any other quality he lacked. Soon enough, "Dogtown" began disappearing beneath Jay's feet.

Though not marked, Venice, California was divided into two very separate territories; "Dogtown": the run-down, over-crowded, working-class section of town, and a district known as "The Hill": the part of town located north of the busiest street in the city, a steep slope that ran through the heart of the city, past the pier, where Sid lived with his parents. As he propelled himself up the hill, Jay looked toward the pier. No more than fifty years ago, the pier had been a beautiful attraction, the beach clean, the city undivided—classes mingling together. In those days, everyone was trying to make it through the most grueling part of the depression. People worked together for the betterment of the community.

Once the street leveled again, Jay turned down a side street and made his way through _The Hill_. This part of town was nothing short of beautiful. Its houses were well kept; its streets and sidewalks swept free of any debris. During the summer the boys scoured its lots for pools they could skate in. Most times they spent the majority of the day emptying the pools, but with the recent heat wave, it appeared the town would have a strict water ban in place come by summer.

Jay followed the winding concrete back to the main street, practicing jumps over toppled trashcans and grinding down railings. It was then that something caught his eye—the library. Built just before the depression, the library's exterior was something to be marveled at (even if its contents were not of particular interest). High columns adorned the sides of the building and a chiseled monument dedicated to whomever founded the institution sat on the perfectly trimmed lawn. None of this had attracted Jay's attention though; he was focused on the library's monstrous staircase. An idea flashed through his head and in true Jay-Adams-fashion, he bounced up the enormous flight without giving it a second thought.

At the top of the steps Jay turned around, taking in a complete view of the opposite side of the street. There sat the private school Sid attended (that is when he wasn't tagging alone on one of the Z-boys' great misadventures), the town hall, and the second post office.

Jay inhaled deeply, as if it were his last breath, took one step forward with his back foot and began his descent down the stairs. He let out a huge "whoop!" of excitement as one by one the stairs slid from under him. He could almost feel his foot touch the curb when he turned his head slightly to his left. Coming down the stairs was a small girl with beautiful red-blonde-brown—Jay couldn't't exactly define it—hair. Her neatly pressed uniform indicated she was one of Sid's rich schoolmates and she walked as if no one else in the world existed. Suddenly, Jay felt himself waver, his balance completely thrown off. He braced himself for the impact. In an instant, he felt his arm meet the rough concrete, his skin scraping its warm, sand-papery surface, but he had stopped. He groaned as he lifted himself from the pavement, taking a second to assess the damage. He limped to the other side of the street to rest before heading to Zephyr to catch up with the others.

Jay eased himself down onto the curb, careful to stay out of people's way. Closing his eyes against the pain, he heard someone's footsteps approach. "Are you OK?" a soft, feminine voice asked. Opening his eyes he saw a pair of tiny feet in patent leather dress shoes. Jay lifted his head, squinting to see. It was the red headed girl he had seen just moments ago, with a concerned look on her face.

"Yeah, sure" Jay managed to say. It came out more harshly than he had wanted. The girl simply nodded, walking off towards what Jay knew as Sid's street.

Jay felt a pang of some strange, inexplicable feeling surge through him and decided to follow her. He stayed behind her ("a safe walking distance" one might call it), not wanting to send her running in a panic for her house. Sure enough, she took a right; she lived on "Sid's street": Beckert Ave., a dead end with the most expensive houses on the block. Halfway down the street her book bag's zipper came undone, spilling her belongings onto the sidewalk. "Shoot" he heard her mutter, bending down to retrieve the items. Jay quickened his pace, jogging over to help her. Without a word, he grabbed her book bag and a paper-covered textbook. The girl gasped, not realizing anyone had been on the street. Gathering her things, Jay's face registered in her memory and her shoulders relaxed. "Oh" she said taking her bag from Jay. "Thank you" she half-whispered politely.

"I just wanted to say thanks for asking if I was OK back there, I didn't want you to think I was a jerk or anything." This was not the whole truth; Jay had also wanted to get another look at her face.

"Oh"

"Is that all you say?" Jay asked boldly.

"What? Oh—no" She stammered, visibly shocked.

"Sorry, that came out wrong. I'm Jay." He said putting his board in his other hand and extending his right; she did not accept it.

"Rachel" she said introducing herself. Looking around, Rachel spotted something that evidently worried her. "Um, I have to go" she said hurriedly, scampering off to her house.

Rachel left Jay standing alone on Bekert Ave., his hand still outstretched. Jay shook his head, of course she ran off, he was a sweaty skater boy; her boyfriend would probably be calling her any second. A girl like her wouldn't want to risk her delicate reputation by talking to someone from _Dogtown_. As Jay turned to go back, he saw a brand new mustang pull down the street, and into the drive Rachel had entered. Riding his board into town, his body aching, Jay heard himself say "she asked".


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter two (Tony)

Tony Alva was absolutely crushed- in more ways than one. While Tony had (up until six months ago) carefully developed a reputation of being a ladies man, having had his share of passionate teenage love affairs, he found himself (as his buddies liked to call it) "hung up" on one girl. Tony never pictured himself as a one woman guy- at least not for very long. At seventeen, his longest relationship had lasted a whopping three months, when his lady-love found him making out with another girl.

This was definitely not an ordinary occurrence for Tony. He had never felt this way about anyone or anything else in his whole life. Maybe skating and surfing came close, but the way Cassie made him feel was something new--something more. Skating and surfing came very naturally for Tony; something he had to do to feel like he was truly living; like breathing. That was what Cassie had become, his breath, his life.

The two met at a house party (who hosted the party, Tony could not recall) after a day spent surfing at the cove.

_Cassie's dark brown eyes danced as she laughed at a joke someone was telling. All Tony could see was her bright, easy smile, her voice was the only sound he could make out above the bustle of the party. Tony quickly gulped the last of his beer and started toward her, holding his breath._

_Randy Cahill was chatting with Cassie, staring blatantly at her ample chest. Randy disgusted Tony all of a sudden; the way his eyes bugged out of his egg-shaped head, atop his scrawny body._

_"Hey T.A.!" Randy called out, as if he and Tony were the best of friends. "T.A., this is Cassie, Cassie, this is--"_

_"I'm Tony" He said, interrupting Randy. Cassie turned toward Tony, smiling._

_"Nice to meet you" she said taking Tony's hand. Under any other condition Tony Alva would have remained totally cool; Tony found himself forgetting to breathe, his heart racing._

_"You feel like a drink?" Tony asked_

_"What?!" Cassie shouted, struggling to hear. _

_"A drink, do you want one?" Tony motioned, tipping an imaginary cup against his mouth._

_"Sure!"_

_"alright then." Tony set off in search of a suitable beverage._

_Tony entered the kitchen and rummaged through one of the full coolers for beer. As he turned around, he came face-to-face with Cassie who had snuck up behind him. He politely handed her the cold can. "Thanks for the beer" she said, suddenly turning sheepish. "And for the distraction; that creep's been attached to me all night." Tony was certainly pleased he's destroyed their one-on-one time._

_"No sweat" Tony replied. A silence fell upon them as they tried their best to get the conversation going again._

_"This your first time at one of Coop's parties?"_ --It suddenly came back to him, it was Mark Cooper's bi-weekly "beer smash"- a get together all the Z-boys attended (providing Stacy was not working), God only knows where the rest of them were.--

_"Yeah, some chick Kathy --she's in my home ec. class-- told me about it."_

_"Kathy Alva?"_

_"yeah" he eyes narrowed._

_"That's my sister"_

_"oh yeah? Small world huh?" Tony laughed, taking small sips from his own drink._

_"You live in Dogtown?" Tony asked, though he guessed if she lived on "the hill" she wouldn't be attending the town's local high school._

_"Yeah, my family lived in Venice till I was about nine, then we moved to San Francisco, San Diego, we even lived in L.A. for a while. We just moved back last spring."_

_"Thats's weird"_

_"what?"_

_"You'd think I would've noticed we went to the same school" he said trying to get her attention. _

_"You sure like to lay the charm on thick"_

_"Why not, right?" He paused, removing the confident, victorious smirk from his face. "But seriously, is it just you?"_

_"Nope, I've got two brothers--one older, one younger-- ,and a younger sister."_

_"Wow"_

_"yeah, it gets a bit crazy sometimes" she said smiling fondly. _

_"How come you move around so much?"_

_"My Dad's a bit of wanderer-- he said things just didn't feel right where we were, his jobs were'nt good enough--, he's a dreamer. But I think Venice's always been our home, I was born here." Tony nodded thoughtfully "Have you lived here long?"_

_"Yeah, I mean some people think this place is a shit hole-- believe me, I know it is-- but you won't find a better place to skate."_

_"Oh, you're one of those" she said, her eyebrows raised in mock disgust._

_"I skate, so what?"_

_"From what I hear, you skater boys don't make time for much else." She leaned in closer to Tony, he could smell her pungent perfume, the shampoo in her hair._

_"What if I said I'd make time for you?" he whispered, his lips almost touching her ear. Without warning, she dipped her head, putting her lips softly against Tony's._

_"It's a plan" she said, ending the kiss. Tony stood in stunned-silence, unable to come up with one of his famous, devilishly-suave remarks._

_Before the cops were called (as was customary on a night at Coop's house) to break up the festivities, Cassie neatly printed her phone number on a napkin with Tony's instructions. He was to call her tomorrow afternoon if he was at all interested in seeing her again. Tony called her a little after twelve the next day._

_Their first date had been on the boardwalk overlooking the beach and before long the two spent more time thinking about, talking to (or about), with each other than most of their friends found healthy._

_That is not to say that the two did not have their share of arguments. In fact, sometimes a simple comment would be misinterpreted and before any witnesses (if there were any present) or even Cassie and Tony knew it, the situation had snowballed into a full blown fight. One late night dispute got so heated, Cassie threw a shoe at Tony and hit him in the mouth. Quite often, one party would realize how childish they were being and apologize before either left each other's side. Then one thing would lead to another..._

Tony had no doubts that he loved Cassie more than he'd loved anything and had no reservations about telling her exactly how he felt. That was exactly what was troubling him. He had not seen or heard from Cassie in three days--which was so unlike Cassie. Every time he called her house asking for her, she was out with a member of her family, a girlfriend or doing a chore around the house. Even on Friday, at school, something seemed off--something was changing. Tony Alva did not mind change, he did not however enjoy feeling helpless and out of control. He needed to be in control at all times. Uneasiness and concern was beginning to envelope Tony Alva.


	4. Chapter 3

(A/N: This chapter is a bit shorter than the others so as not to give away too much at once)

Chapter three (Stacy)

Stacy was tired of many things. He was sick of working at the diner, working to make a skate team that didn't think he had the heart or talent to be a part of. He was tired of late nights spent cleaning up after the diner's sloppy patrons, studying Shakespeare and Thoreau—guys that couldn't relate to Stacy and Stacy couldn't begin to understand. He was sick and tired of coming home to his shack, to his sleeping father who never seemed interested in his own son. He was tired of being tired.

Stacy's boss had let him off early, which would give him a chance to get his homework done and allow him a couple hours of sleep. He watched as the houses on his block sped by his window in the gloomy light of evening. He parked his car, carefully shutting off the ignition and made his way to the front door. He didn't bother with his key, knowing it would be unlocked. He pushed the door open, taking in his very familiar living room. On the reclining chair, his father snored loudly, not waking, even as Stacy closed and bolted the door. Stacy sighed; this is what his life had become. His father would be sleeping when he came home, gone when he awoke for school.

Stacy trudged into the outdated kitchen, retrieving a bowl from the overhead cabinet and setting it soundlessly on the counter. He effortlessly poured himself a bowl of Oat-O's—his typical dinner on a night such as this. He watched as he drowned the tiny circles in an ocean of creamy, white milk and fought back the urge to close his eyes.

"You're home" he heard his father ask, his words running together.

"Yeah"

"how was work?" he asked as Stacy shoveled another scoop of cereal into his mouth,

"Fine"

"do your homework?" Mr. Peralta asked after a time.

"I was just getting to it" Stacy said, rinsing the crumbs from the smooth surface of the bowl. His father nodded, only half-hearing what Stacy had said.

"Good" Stacy waited in the door frame of the cluttered kitchen, watching his father open another bottle of beer in one quick, flawless, almost graceful motion. The swig of the fizzy, foamy liquid brought a relaxed, peaceful look to his face and he grunted in satisfaction. "Don't stay up too late" he didn't even wait for Stacy's quiet response before clicking on the old T.V. set.

"You wouldn't know any different."

Just as Stacy had predicted, his father was nowhere in sight when he prepared breakfast for himself the next morning. Peering into the empty living room, Stacy shook his head. His father's beer bottles from the previous night lay on the floor beside the sagging recliner. "Trash goes in the trash" Stacy muttered, despite being completely alone in the house. He quickly chucked the bottles into the trashcan and began gathering his books for school.

Nothing seemed to be going Stacy's way. He was perpetually frustrated, –if only on the inside—always anxious, he was a nervous wreck. Stacy never wanted to let anyone down. He had to work hard at the diner to keep his boss's day running smoothly, he had to pass English class so old Mr. Dubious felt he could still educate young people, and wouldn't be forced into retirement. Stacy had to go to Zephyr after school so Skip wouldn't think he was bailing on him, but above all, Stacy Peralta had to stay out of his father's hair and pretend he didn't see what was happening in order to keep his father happy. At first, pretending had been so easy; pasting on a smile, going to parties, acting perfectly normal. As time wore on though, Stacy began to wonder if people could see through his laid-back front, if they could see that something was clearly amiss. The more he tried, the harder it became , to continue the charade. He was beginning to crack, he started to grow tired, exhausted from trying to be something he wasn't

Nothing seemed to be going right and for Stacy it didn't seem fair. He wanted to go back in time; help wherever he could; fix whatever he himself felt he could fix. He wanted desperately to be normal, to feel normal , no matter how selfish it seemed. Stacy was just tired. Stacy Peralta was always tired of something. He was tired of everything.


End file.
